Almost Like You Never Left
by x-Pretty-Kitty-x
Summary: He visits him everyday, waiting. Waiting for his miracle to happen. But it never does, it's been three years now and it's not getting better. Mrs Hudson barely speaks about him anymore, it makes her just as sad as John.


**Almost Like You Never Left**

**So I went to Liverpool on Sunday and only got back late Monday so this is a little later than I expected. Thanks xxxxxxx**

**So this isn't a very Johnlock (ish) story, its kind of an alternative version of my Come Back To Me xxxxxxx**

He visits him every day, waiting. Waiting for his miracle to happen. But it never does, it's been three years now and it's not getting better. Mrs Hudson barely speaks about him anymore, it makes her just as sad as John.

"Hi, so you're not giving up then? You always were a stubborn annoying dick. You can come back now, I did it, Moriarty is real. You're not a fake, Sherlock. People are mourning your death. They believe you. Come home."

"John."

John froze. He had to be imagining that voice.

"John."

John looked up at the man.

"Lestrade, hi."

"Mrs Hudson asked me to look for you, to take you home."

"I'm staying, I always talk to him. Tell him about cases, the people, life, everything." John replied, pointing to the gravestone.

"John."

"No, I'm staying. I'll be home soon. I need this." John replied desperately, his eyes full of sadness.

"Okay, I'll be at the flat."

"Thank you."

Lestrade squeezed John's shoulder and headed for his car.

x..x

Sherlock smiled through all of John's stories, his rants, his laughter. And then his heart broke when John started to cry, always did and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch him; just hold him until he stopped crying and the pain faded. He'd thought about it, he can even called his name but Lestrade had pulled up and Sherlock had had to disappear.

He supposed John was used to it now though, him trying to make conversation while Sherlock ignored him or even worse, just left the room while he talked. He took that for granted; all those times John had made him eat, sleep and generally made him function like a normal person, but Sherlock had been mean; he'd never thanked him, showed his appreciation and he never even pretended to care. He'd blamed it on sentiment and caring when in reality it was just consideration, as simple as that and he was too selfish even for that.

There was a pang in his chest and he come to the realisation that it was guilt and sorrow. He hated emotions, the made him weak, made him confused, made him ... feel. He sighed; maybe that was why John had been so kind, to show that he cared and that he'd accepted Sherlock in all his ways. He had to make peace and go back to John. He couldn't live like this any longer, it was killing him.

x..x

An unmarked black car pulled up and the familiar well suite man stepped out, beginning his talk to the army doctor.

"... and Anderson, being a dick as usual, thinks I'm 'pining' over you. What's he know about loss and grief ... Oh, bloody hell, here comes the cavalry." John commented mid conversation, spotting Mycroft heading his way.

"John ..."

"You the last resort? Lestrade couldn't coax me to leave so you're gonna drag me away?"

"Not drag, no."

"Let's cut this short, I'll leave when I'm ready, not when I'm told. Got it?"

"Well."

"Mycroft."

"As you wish."

Sherlock smiled from behind the tree, he loved getting on Mycroft's nerves and being able to do it from beyond the grave was even better.

"Goodbye, Mycroft."

"Goodbye, John."

Mycroft spun on his heels and stalked back to his car.

"Think I upset him." John smiled at Sherlock's tombstone.

x..x

"I'm home, Mrs Hudson. Mrs Hudson? Oh well, must be bingo night." John sighed, slumping into the couch.

"Is this really comfy enough that Sherlock could just fall asleep so effortlessly?" John wondered aloud.

He curled up and began to remember; every argument, deduction, laugh, smile, anything to forget the emptiness.

He fell asleep some time later, before a figure came through the door and up the stairs.

Sherlock watched the doctor sleep, wondering what made him smile even in his sleep. He began to stir and Sherlock was unsure what to do.

"John."

"Sherlock?" John asked, suddenly vary aware considering he had just awoke.

He looked up and saw him; the detective, his best friend, and ran to him with tear-filled eyes.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John as he sobbed; glad to be holding his best friend close and firm.

"I'm here, John. I'm not going anywhere, not anymore."

The simplest of words that caused John to hold Sherlock that little bit tighter bf to cause the sobs to subside a little.

It was finally over, the two men with a bond so strong, back where they belonged ... together.

**So this is probably the more realistic version of their reunion, except John will probably punch Sherlock and argue before he tries to hug him. Plus, Moffat and Gatiss will probably drag it out over the three episodes and in the last five minutes of the episode lol. Please R&R, sub and fave :) xxxxxxx**


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